Unbecoming (7 page)

Maybe the sun bleaching through the exam room window messed with Katie’s head, because time definitely slowed down. She could actually feel the dull thump of each passing moment. Never had vectors or Newton’s laws of motion felt so torturous and even though there were only two questions she struggled with, it felt as if days had passed when Mechanics was finally over.

She was going to slink away as quickly as possible, but a couple of the boys said they were going to get a Coke from the machine by the common room and was she coming or what? This was so entirely weird, that she tagged after them. They sat on the wall outside and went over questions they remembered.

She’d mucked up coefficients of friction big time, but she’d remembered to convert to radians per second when working out linear speed round a circle and yes, she’d used Newton’s Second Law to find the equation of motion in the radial direction. Not too bad …

The boys even told her about some party a friend of theirs was having after exams were over and she put the details on her phone. Why not? If she studied really hard, Mum might let her go.

It was so nice to be included that Katie felt herself relax for the first time in days. The breeze ruffled her hair. Birds twittered overhead and it was so hot it looked as if water beamed at her from the
walls of the main school buildings across the playground. They actually looked rather beautiful, as if waterfalls swept their sides.

Another exam done and a whole week of half term coming up. Only one more exam after that and now a party to look forward to. She was lucky. She must keep thinking this. She was not Mum making difficult phone calls. She was not Chris. She was not poor dead Jack. She was not Mary, trapped in the flat with no choice about anything. She was Katie Baxter – blessed to be alive and healthy on such a sunny day.

She felt positively optimistic as she threw the empty can in the bin, said goodbye to the boys and picked up her bag. So optimistic, that when she saw Esme and her friends over on the grass by the drama block she made a decision.

She’d casually walk up and ask how exams were going. Then she’d ask if they had any plans for the afternoon. She didn’t want to hide away like Pat. She wanted to risk her heart like Mary.

The girls would admire her courage and include her again. Simple.

When there’s a collision between two objects, Newton’s Third Law states that the force on one of the bodies is equal and opposite to the force on the other body. B ut there weren’t two bodies, there were five of them and only one of her and how could she ever have thought they’d be inclusive or that things would be equal?

She knew it as soon as she veered off the path towards them.

‘Hey,’ one of them said, nudging Esme, ‘here comes your friend.’

Ex
-friend. Which is why Esme looked so horrified. Which is why she did a backwards collapse on the grass, like a sniper had got her. Katie felt a fierce burning flood her face. How could a friendship go from something to nothing? More than nothing, in fact – a negative, because they’d lost the thing they had.

It was palpable the way the others judged Katie as she got close – their eyes flicking up and down, checking out her complete lack of tan or makeup, her inability to do anything with her hair apart from shove it in a ponytail. But if she turned round and walked away she’d look a total loser and make everything worse. She had to go through with this, had to make them change their minds about her. She’d keep it short, not say anything too mad and pretend she hadn’t noticed Esme blanking her.

But maybe Esme ignoring her gave the other girls permission to be meaner, because there was a certain electric energy in their eyes as they shushed each other, like they were in a play and the main actor had just arrived and clearly didn’t know her words.

Imagine them on the toilet. Imagine them slipping on banana skins
.

‘Hi,’ Katie said. ‘I thought I’d come over and see how you were.’

‘All of us?’ Amy said. ‘Or just one of us?’

‘All of you.’

‘Interesting decision.’ Amy smirked. ‘But then I heard you’re good at those.’

‘Could we just drop this now?’

‘Drop it? Why? It’s fascinating.’

‘Actually, it’s getting kind of tedious.’

‘You think?’ She turned to the others. ‘But we want to know all about your unusual tendencies, don’t we?’

Heat amplified across Katie’s chest and face. ‘Never mind. Just forget it.’

‘Don’t be like that. We’re curious, that’s all.’

One of the other girls laughed. ‘Three-way curious, Amy?’

Amy wagged a finger. ‘Funny!’

Katie’s heart was clanging, banging in her chest.
Esme, Esme,
say
something!
But no, she lay on the grass with her golden hair spread about her as if she was dead.

A third girl eyed Katie enquiringly. ‘So, what
did
actually happen?’

Sunlight flickered through the trees overhead and splashed all their keen and upright faces. Katie felt as if she was watching herself, seeing them laugh at her, listening to herself unable to speak, because what could she say?
I’m confused? I’m an idiot? I wish I could turn all the clocks back?

‘Anything you can remember would be fine,’ the girl said, ‘like, exactly what you were thinking when you jumped your only friend?’

‘I didn’t jump her.’

‘Oh, she was up for it, was she?’

And Esme – finally! – sat up and scraped the hair from her face and said, ‘Just give it a break, you lot, will you?’

Which Katie appreciated. Although really, there had to be rules in the universe and one of them had to surely be that if you betrayed someone absolutely, you weren’t allowed to keep doing it and you definitely weren’t allowed to feign death when they got attacked.

Amy was still eyeing her up and down. She said, ‘You must be boiling in those jeans.’

One of the others said, ‘She likes it hot though, doesn’t she?’

They all laughed like drains again. Except for Esme. She wasn’t laughing.

‘So, you just had an exam?’ Esme said. And although she avoided eye contact, it was definitely a question levelled at Katie, and it sounded like a serious question, not a piss take. And it was the first time Esme had spoken to her in over a month.

Katie tried to get her heart under control. ‘Mechanics.’

Amy sniggered. ‘You’re doing an A level in fixing cars?’

‘It’s maths.’

‘So, now you’re showing off?’

‘I’m just telling you what it is.’

‘All right, keep calm!’

Katie ignored her. ‘Did you get your art coursework done, Esme?’ Because how was she supposed to find stuff out if Esme wouldn’t talk to her?

Maybe it was using her name, just chucking it out as if she had the right to say it, but Esme’s eyes flickered to Katie’s briefly and then away. And was that a hint of a smile?

‘Yeah, all handed in.’

She’d dyed her hair again, made it blonder and her fingernails were painted blue, green, yellow. Once, Esme had painted Katie’s nails. Not that long ago – autumn in fact, just after Katie arrived at the school and Esme had befriended her, just after they started walking to school together, when they still hung out.

‘You had the written exam yet?’ Katie asked.

‘Just finished.’

‘How did it go?’

‘Not sure.’

I see you
, thought Katie. You know exactly, but you don’t want to let your guard down in front of these girls. ‘I’ve got English in a week, then I’m done,’ Katie said. ‘What about you?’

Amy faked a massive yawn. ‘Could this get any more interesting?’

‘Shush, shush!’ One of the others pointed across the grass. ‘Here comes the other one.’

Katie turned and there was Simona Williams (who everyone knew the rumours about) crossing the grass.

‘Hey,’ Amy called. ‘Can I ask you something?’

Simona stopped and looked at them all with such condescension that Katie could barely breathe. ‘What?’

‘Do you want to come on a picnic?’

‘Not if you held a gun to my head.’

‘But I heard you like eating out.’

Simona narrowed her eyes. ‘Is that supposed to be funny?’

‘It
is
funny actually.’

‘Only if you’re small-minded, bigoted and stupid.’

Amy started laughing, a snorting, hiding kind of laugh. It was the kind of laugh that’s supposed to show everyone you’re nice and don’t really mean to be such a cow. Her shoulders were shaking with it, and maybe it was contagious because Esme caught it and the others followed, one by one. And it was such a relief that this terror wasn’t hers that Katie began to laugh too. Someone else could take the flak for a change. Someone else could be the geek, the odd one out. It was delicious. It felt like belonging. Katie Baxter was part of this group of giggling girls and it was better than not being, better than being Simona Williams, who was shaking her head at them as if they were idiots, who was telling them all to grow up as she stalked away.

It was hilarious.

For about twenty seconds.

As soon as Simona disappeared into the drama block, Amy turned on Katie, wanting to know why she was laughing, what was so amusing, did she think mocking a poor innocent lesbian was cool? Esme sighed and lay back on the grass, an arm slung across her face.

Don’t leave me
, Katie thought.
Don’t disappear again. Why are you letting this happen?

Amy saw her looking, said, ‘Christ! Just give it up, will you?’

And the others all giggled again.

Despite the sun, despite her jeans and sweater, Katie was cold, really shivery cold. She’d actually thought for the briefest moment
that today might be different. The world had seem momentarily pleased with her. She’d been lulled by sunshine.

Stupid! Stupid to think it could ever be all right.

She grabbed her bag. ‘I’m going.’

Amy tutted. ‘That’s not very friendly, is it?’

‘I don’t want to be friendly.’

‘Not what I heard. I heard you’re
very
friendly.’ There was something vicious in her voice now. ‘Or maybe I’m not your type.’

Esme stirred on the grass. This had gone too far for her perhaps.

‘You’re surrounded by morons,’ Katie told her. ‘Get out while you can.’

She wanted bombs to fall from the frigging sky. Right on the heads of these stupid girls. She had fury in her again, mad fury surging up from her feet to her gut, and maybe they knew, maybe they thought
that’s enough
, or maybe they were bored of it, or maybe they were trying to mess with her head, because they didn’t say a word as she walked away.

It was strange how different Katie’s bedroom looked – not just the unmade bed or the things Mary brought back from her house piled all over the floor, but the curtains tied with a scarf and the window wide open. Katie always worried about people looking in from the flats opposite, but it was quite nice having light streaming into the room.

She went to her desk and pulled out a handful of blank revision books from the drawer. The best one was slim and hard-backed with an elastic to keep it closed – that’d do. She grabbed her pencil case and ran back downstairs, pretending not to notice Mum’s questioning look as she jogged past the kitchen to the lounge and out to the balcony.

‘Right,’ she told Mary. ‘This is going to be
your
book. I’m putting your name in the front and we’re going to write all your important things in it. Like a memory book, you know?’

Mary smiled politely, but didn’t say anything.

‘We’re going to start with a family tree – see how many names we know between us.’

Mary was looking at Katie as if she had absolutely no idea what she was talking about.

Katie reached for her arm and stroked it. ‘What’s the matter?’

‘I’m not myself.’ Mary rubbed the back of her neck with the
palm of her hand as if she had a headache. ‘Every morning I think I can do things, and by the afternoon it turns out I can’t.’

‘Did you do anything this afternoon with Mum? Do you remember?’

‘Not really.’

‘She said you ran off again – you almost got to the high street, I hear. That’s an achievement.’

Mary shook her head. ‘There was a party. Fireworks and bonfires and dancing. Pat wanted everyone to line up for a photo, but people were so busy getting riffy-raffy, they ignored her. Was that today?’

How could a whole day slide away? How could memories from years back be clear, and stuff from hours ago be lost in fog? Katie stroked her arm. She hoped that being stuck in the past wasn’t like being dragged down by anaesthetic, unable to wake up, sinking despite yourself. She hoped there were plenty of good memories inside Mary’s head to explore. She kept quiet, kept stroking Mary’s arm until, finally, she closed her eyes. Katie wished her sweet dreams and opened the book. She’d just have to start it by herself.

In primary school, each child drew their family tree. When Katie showed hers to the teacher, she was told off for not making an effort.
But there’s only four of us
, she said. She was instructed to ask her parents for help. Her dad – an only child – said his own parents had died when he was a young man and told her their names. It was like having ghosts on her poster. He said Mum was an orphan too and showed her a photo of Pat that Mum kept in her purse. He said Pat had never learned to swim and should never have gone in the sea. She looked very strict in the photo. But not half as strict as Mum when she came in and saw them looking at it. She snatched it back. She said some things were private. She wrote a note for the teacher saying such a project shouldn’t be statutory.
She said,
Schools should check with parents before they go stirring things up
, and refused to talk about it again. For the first time Katie realized adults had secrets and it made her afraid. Perhaps the world was full of unspeakable horror and when she was old enough, she’d be told. She also began to worry that her parents would die like her grandparents and that Chris and she would be alone.

This new family tree was different. It had Mary Todd at its centre. Katie drew a vertical line to show she had a daughter, Caroline, in 1954. Mum wouldn’t thank Katie for putting her date of birth down in black and white, but maybe she didn’t ever need to see?

Katie drew a horizontal line and wrote Jack’s name next to Mary’s. Poor dead Jack. Was it possible to miss someone you didn’t know? Because she did, especially when Mary claimed to see him about the place. It felt like a weight in Katie’s chest – thinking of him lying in a mortuary waiting to be buried.

She added Mary’s sister, Pat, to the tree and wrote
adopted
between her name and Mum’s. She wondered briefly if that was the right word. Should it be
fostered
instead? Or
surrogate
? What was the word for a woman who brought up a child when the child’s real mother had run off? Mmm, she’d have to give that some thought …

Above the two sisters, Katie left a gap for their unnamed parents. She put Dad next to Mum (another thing Mum would find hard) and wrote
separated
in a bracket between them. She put Dad’s dead parents above him. Then she put Chris and herself.

Already, the page was looking crowded. By the time she found out about Mary’s parents and dared to add Dad’s girlfriend and the baby (a half-sister!), she’d have a massive family. Instead of a triangle, she’d be part of a new shape, one with branches and roots. She almost wanted to seek out that old primary teacher and tell her all about it, which was weird.

She headed the next page of the book –
Facts
. Mary was seventeen when she gave birth to Mum in 1954. Katie had watched enough episodes of
Mad Men
and
Call the Midwife
to know that being pregnant and unmarried in the fifties was a massive deal. No legal abortion, no government hand-outs, no council housing, just shame and stigma. Nightmare! And if Mary’s dad really had called her a slut, then he sounded pretty strict, so maybe he’d thrown her out and that’s why she’d gone missing for years?

Katie headed the next page
Things Mum says
, because on the way home from Mary’s house she’d said she’d never been happier than when she lived in Bisham as a girl (funny – Katie had never been
un
happier!). Chris had piped up with, ‘So why did you leave?’ And Mum had looked at Mary in the rear-view mirror and said, ‘Someone turned up on my doorstep.’ Nine years old and you discover your mum is your aunt and your real mum is a total stranger. No wonder Mum never wanted to talk about it.

This was a good idea. A book!

Every morning when Mary was brightest, Katie would ask her questions and discover all sorts of juicy secrets. She’d have to try and differentiate between crap and truth, of course. Mmm, that might be difficult. Had Mary really shinned down the drainpipe to go dancing, or did she just wish that happened? Anyway, before too long, the puzzle of the past would be resolved and Mary and Mum would patch things up. Mum would stop thinking everyone was about to abandon her and mellow out. She’d forgive Dad. She’d let Katie drop an A level next year, because only nutters took four. She’d also let her have a gap year abroad and … oh yes, if Mum ever got wind of any rumours regarding Katie and Esme – well, maybe she’d be so chilled out by that point the horror wouldn’t actually kill her.

So, Katie had a plan – but the only way for it to work was if
Mum had no idea. She’d hate all this prying into the past. She already felt uncomfortable with Jack’s Post-it Notes on Mary’s bedroom wall, so a secret book would be even more distressing. Here she came now, tapping on the window and pointing to her watch. That gesture meant, could Katie please lay the table and sort out drinks. Katie felt a stab of irritation. It was nice sitting out here huddled in a chair watching light fade from the sky. Did they always have to eat at exactly half seven? Mary was asleep, for goodness sake! Mum tapped again, louder now. This probably meant – I’ve been on my feet all day, I’ve had no time for myself, I’ve made hundreds of phone calls, kept Mary safe and catered to her every whim, policed Chris on his Xbox and made supper and all you’re doing is sitting on your backside watching the sun set, so will you please help me out here because I shouldn’t have to ask twice!

Katie snapped the book shut.

Supper was horrible. Not the food, which was pasta and pesto – the atmosphere. Mary barely ate. She seemed so different – sort of deflated, like her air had come out. Her eyes kept searching the room, searching faces, as if she was trying to work out where she was and why. At one point she grabbed Mum’s hand and whispered, ‘Pat? Is that you?’

Mum shook her head. ‘I’m Caroline.’

‘Are you sure?’

‘Sun downing,’ Mum whispered to Katie later. She’d gone straight to her laptop while Katie cleared the table and looked up symptoms on some dementia website. ‘Late afternoon and evening, she’ll lose energy and be prone to restless and impulsive behaviour. Her concentration will lapse and she’s likely to do things which may endanger herself or others.’ Mum reeled them off as if they were certainties, slapped the laptop shut and slumped back in her chair
to gaze hopelessly at the ceiling. ‘Brilliant. Doesn’t life just get better by the hour?’

Mary was watching TV with Chris at the other end of the room. She didn’t appear to have heard. Katie went to sit with them. It seemed wrong to talk about that stuff in front of them and Katie didn’t know what to do about it.

‘Shove up,’ she told her brother. He huffed, but moved over and she sat between them on the sofa. They were watching some detective programme about a psychic who knew what people were thinking and could tell the cops where bodies were hidden.

‘I’m going to learn to read people’s minds,’ Chris said.

‘You can read mine if you like,’ Mary laughed. ‘Let me know what you find.’

Katie leaned in to her. Her grandmother was warm and solid.